


Cinder

by glassnikki



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hydra (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassnikki/pseuds/glassnikki
Summary: Working for the Asset isn't fun and games
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 32





	Cinder

It had foiled down to an exact science at this point. A routine timed out almost to the last second to keep your head on your shoulders. The soldier's life was entwined with your own, whether you liked it or not.

When he was away, your life was the easiest. Mandatory duties were the general upkeep of his room in case he finished his current mission early. Turning over his sheets and towels were always fresh first chore followed by a crisp set of clothes. Never any liberty with choices, however, as the closet only housed swatches of black cut in the same patterns.

He wasn’t bad to look after. He was never in his room long enough to make a huge mess. And while some of the other failed trainees had insisted on their demands on allowed comforts, the soldier had only asked for a cup of tea three times in two years you had worked for them.

As much as you hate to say it, his silence almost of you soothed you as his presence alarmed you. Never had he lunged or done anything slightly menacing towards you. But tending to a deadly assassin and a temperamental handler in a questionable organization wasn't the easiest thing to digest. 

Three days away, you were starting to get antsy for his arrival. While others might get an alert he was coming back, you were left in the dark. But if he came back within the next week, you’d be stuck here until his next mission and almost destined to miss Christmas for the second time. Everyone does deserve a break for Christmas, even him, but why did he get his mean your's was completely withdrawn.

You were just finishing wiping down the shower when you heard the door creep open. Shit!

Spinning quickly on small heels, your nose almost brushed up with your least favorite HYDRA member, Rumlow.

“We were wondering where you were hiding. The Asset will be in his room within the hour.” His breath was sickly hot on your face. Your body clenched as he ran a finger over various surfaces.

In a quick bolt, his hand smeared semi-dry blood against the mirror to claim it unevenly.

“We wouldn’t want the Asset to come home to a dirty room right? Why don’t you clean that up sweetheart?” His breath was almost as horrid as his action, but at least it gave you a reason to pull away from him.

Scooping gracefully down to the basket with your cleaning supplies, your hands wrapped around the rag and spray. Your heels clicked like gunshots in the silent room, the sprayed mist transforming into a rainstorm.

Reaching to the top required rising onto your toes, even in your uniform heels. Just as you rag grazed the surface, a push at your waist almost sent your upper body into as something cold pressed against your neck.

“He wastes you, you know that! You play his little maid for him while he just watches you skip around in a skirt like this. I know programming someone can fuck them up, but I’m certainly not blind to you.” The intent of his words curdles your blood. “Now why don’t you be a good little girl and clean this mess up. Move nice and pretty for me while you do too.”

Straightening up forced your entire body flush against his. His perverted intent accented by each of your movements pulled a moan or jut of his hips. Water eyes finally focused on the reflection, mascara starting to pool noticeably.

The drag of your zipper down your side snapped them shut, the sound of fabric hitting the floor glue them together.

His touch made your body revolt, your stomach retch, and tongue dry. The knife never traveled far, maybe to rest on your collarbone as he worked on some of the buckles of his gear.

“Pierce needs to see you for full confirmation of the latest mission.” A deep voice entered, allowing your eyes to peak a little. A familiar shadow filled the doorway, arm glinting off the bright bathroom lighting.

“I’ll be there once I finish up the little business that I have here. Stay and watch if you want, don’t think you can even get up any more old man.” Rumlow jeered at him from the reflection as the tension of your bra was yanked away.

“He needs you now! You were supposed to be there ten minutes ago. Plus I’d like to get clean.” Even as he stepped forward, his eyes stayed glued to the back of Rumlow’s head, burning holes back there.

“I get it, you just want a turn before anyone else. The precious Asset thinks he can get anything he wants.” You thought pleas out to anyone that would listen, hoping for him to leave you alone.

Someone must have heard because a second later his weight was gone, just the chill of the marble pressing against your thighs. Stomping feet were accented by the front door sealing into place. You collapsed onto the ground, no amount of strength or adrenaline could keep you standing anymore. Softer footsteps approached you causing you to rocket to your feet, fearful to make eye contact. 

“You can lock the door while doing your duties here if it would make you feel better. You know where the code is.” His gruff voice sounded moments before the shower stream kicked on, yet another sound to send you rocketing away.

The code, scratched crudely in the drawer, resting under the folded boxers. His only salvation for a moment's rest, willingly given to your eyes.

You bustled to finish the last of the sweep in his quarters and pushed your carts back into the hallway, well before the shower had cut off.

It would be rude to at least not do something in gratitude. Any of his actions deemed non-compliant would be cause for punishment, normally dealt with at the flick of a switch. But would he even appreciate something like a thank you card, he didn’t strike you as a sentimental type? Still, it had to be something, and walking down Main Street, the perfect idea popped into your head as you dipped into your much-beloved store.

* * *

The girl was strange, working furiously when you occupied your room to finish her tasks quickly. The horror spread from her face due to the clatter the fallen broom made was worse than what he saw on some of his targets. As if any loud noise or misstep would be the end of her.

The incident with Rumlow certainly didn't help anything, already so flighty and ready to jump out a window. That day's sparring matches brought a new intensity, paid for by sharp blows bruising his skin but worth it to see a deep split lip and brow form his opponent.

The next day she was noticeably absent, just the smell of new sheets and cleaner. And upon further inspection, his daily uniform hadn’t been laid out for after a shower. Not that was even part of her job, the convenience was greatly appreciated. It felt too normal, too domestic to collect clothing while managing a towel around his waist.

Completely normal, except the paper and lump under a pile of boxers. Careful to slide the card out, a flowing script looped across the crisp white paper. 

_ Thank you for helping me the other day. You might have seen it as interference, but I do appreciate it. I also know your food isn’t five stars, but I hope you can savor this. _

His hands crunched the crinkling wrapper and pulled out the slim rectangle. A chocolate bar, something that he hadn’t had since an undercover mission years ago. Deep in the out of his stomach, something felt slightly warmer throughout his body. The security camera could pick up anything, especially the small smile that just peeked his lips.


End file.
